


The Wedding

by FyrienO



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Happy, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrienO/pseuds/FyrienO
Summary: Pink and blue flowers lie on a wall left broken by the Plegian occupation. Children play on grounds usually reserved for army training. Laughter and mirth fill the air.On the balcony stands a man in blue, head resting in his hands, staring out into his kingdom.





	The Wedding

Pink and blue flowers lie on a wall left broken by the Plegian occupation. Children play on grounds usually reserved for army training. Laughter and mirth fill the air.

 

On the balcony stands a man in blue, head resting in his hands, staring out into his kingdom. A figure emerges from the shadows behind him, purple flashes through the pillars of the balcony.

“Chrom! There you are, Lissa and Frederick-“ a pause, “are you alright, Chrom?” She moves into the light and places a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine, Robin. I’m…reflecting.” He smiles, eyes meeting hers for a second before he gazes once more down into the happy mayhem below. “The people are certainly excited.”

“What’s not to be excited about? I’m certainly looking forward to it, I’ve never been to a wedding before…I think.”

“Well get ready for plenty more, every Shepherd seemed to follow my example.” She laughs.

“The war did seem to cause a lot of love, didn’t it.”

They stand quietly together for a moment. A child below runs from his mother, several buns crammed into his arms, and people crowd around a group of pegasi brought in for the occasion.

“You look nice.” Chrom remarks after a while, and she did. The usual purple robe had been substituted for a purple and silver gown, and a wreath of flowers lay upon her head. “I suppose Maribelle had a hand in your outfit?”

“And everyone else’s. I think Ricken’s going to collapse from stress before he makes it to their wedding. Which I still think is weird, by the way, how old even is he, ten?”

“Fourteen, and I told you the nobles like to marry young. It’s not that odd. If Emmeryn hadn’t been in charge I suspect I would have been married off to some noblewoman years ago.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “I wish she could’ve been here.”

“Is that why you’re out here?”

“Partly.”

“You did brilliantly, Chrom. You’re a natural leader. You made all the right decisions, and you won the war. Emmeryn would be proud of you.” She smiles, squeezing his shoulder. “I know I am.” Slowly his eyes open, and he turns them upon her gratefully.

“Ah, Robin, where would I be without you. To think, if I hadn’t found one random woman in a field we wouldn’t be standing here right now. Ylisse wouldn’t be standing.”

“Well I won’t rob myself of all credit, but you were essential as well. We did it together, you, me, and the Sheperds.”

“We certainly did.” He laughs again, suddenly carefree, and slings an arm around her shoulders. “Anyway, what were you about to say when you came in?”

“Oh, right, Lissa and Frederick are beside themselves. You’re not at all ready, no-one could find you anywhere, Maribelle and the seamstresses have been ready with your outfit for hours…Olivia’s starting to think you’ve got cold feet.” She nudges him playfully while he splutters.

“I have not! Fine, let’s get this over with. The preparations I mean, not the whole marrying the love of my life thing.”

“You are a bit silly sometimes, Chrom.”

 

“Robin you found him! Gosh but we have run out of time. Chrom dear, do stop running around and sit down while these ladies do your hair.”

“My hair?” He queries, but before he can be answered Maribelle has pushed him firmly into a chair and he’s surrounded by women with scissors and combs.

“Now then, take a look at this outfit, Robin. Do you think it displays his qualities?” Maribelle directs Robin to the mannequin upon which is displayed Chrom’s wedding vestments. Not dissimilar to his armour, the polished metal half-cuirass is inlaid with silver and gold, the fabric a rich royal blue. A long cape, blue on the outside, red on the inside, drapes elegantly behind. The same blue fabric forms the trousers, the same metal forms the greaves.

“Decorative for sure. Chrom, never wear this in a fight.”

“Precisely what I said, Milady.” Frederick is posed next to the armour, seemingly diligently protecting it from harm. “But I suppose on this occasion a little flamboyance can be allowed.”

“But his _qualities_ , Robin, does it display his _qualities_?”

“Why are you asking me? I’m not a pariah of fashion.”

“Because Lissa can only squeak about how wonderful it is and Frederick is Frederick, no offence dear. Other than them you know him best.”

“I, uh. It’s nice and shiny?”

“I polished it for five hours until I could see my reflection in it. It could not possibly be shinier.”

“Good one, Frederick.” Robin managed, through giggles. “You’re very, um, thorough.”

“Of course. It is an important day for milord, no effort is too much on my part.”

 

After much squeaking from the chair Chrom is revealed. His hair is slightly slicked back and trimmed, his face suggests he has endured hours of torture.

“Oh, perfect.” Maribelle is distracted from Chrom’s outfit for a second and moves to fawn over his hair, plucking a few strands, to his increasing displeasure. “Perfect. Right, let’s get you into your armour.” She hoists him up by the arm.

“Wait, what? No. Nope, I’m doing that by myself.”

“Don’t be silly, dear. You can’t fasten the back by yourself; it’s ceremonial armour, it’s not designed to be practical.” He digs his feet into the carpet as she drags him towards the mannequin.

“Absolutely not. Everyone out but Frederick. Everyone female get out of this room right now!”

“You never seemed to have a problem with nudity before.” Robin mutters, much to his spluttering indignation, as she leaves the room. Maribelle, having suddenly been shunted out seems at a loss of what to do.

“Well I suppose I ought to…the flowers? No, Cordelia and Sumia have finished that…the food? Stahl was going to…”

“Where did Lissa go?

“Oh, I don’t know. She’s really not taking this seriously. You’d think, her own brother…but. The flowers, I’ll make sure they’ve done the flowers right. Yes.”

Robin giggles as Maribelle marches off in her dress, parasol snapping against the ground.

 

Stahl almost dropped his bun when a face and a blur of purple appeared around the corner of the great hall. Everywhere else was a blur of motion, but a sanctimonious quiet was kept here and everyone preparing was doing so in hushed whispers.

“Stahl…Are you eating the reception food? Right off the table?”

“Nope.” He whips the rest of the bun into his mouth, but the crumbs on his tunic betray him.

“Honestly.” Robin brushes his tunic roughly, tutting. “You’ve got some in your ruffle thing too.

“Oops.” He mumbles, through a full mouth.

“Why do I…” Her gaze travels around the room, taking in the pink and blue flowers, the beautifully decorated arch, the royal blue banners and the carpet carefully spread down the centre of the hall. “Wow, it looks great in here.”

“Yeah, I helped Sumia and Cordelia do all the flowers once me and Lon’qu lay the food out.” The flowers cover almost every horizontal surface that isn’t floor. Maribelle is in the process of prodding each one with her parasol.

“Lon’qu helped?”

“Yeah, he peeled all the potatoes it took him ages. He said he missed the mundaneness of it, but he caused quite a stir in the kitchen. Pretty sure every girl in there has fallen in love with our broody guy. I’m glad he stuck around he’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he’s settled. I’m more surprised Sumia helped to be honest, I think she still…well. It’s probably indecent to talk about that in front of the altar.”

“Nah, Sumia’s a good person. She wouldn’t let a past crush get in the way of making two friends happy.”

“No I know. You know, I think it could’ve worked out between them, maybe the timing was just wrong, maybe if I’d made them work together more…but Olivia is good for him, so I’m glad it’s worked out this way.”

Stahl’s giving her a strange look, fingers twitching at his side.

“I…”

“Stahl? What’s wrong?”

“I know… I know you know… there used to be- well, it seemed like once, before the war ended and everything, you and Chrom…I felt like there was some connection there. Maybe. I just… It could be you putting on your wedding dress now, and I’d be eating your wedding buns, not Olivia’s.”

“Stahl…”

“Sorry, I know it’s not…I know neither of you feel like that now, but what happened? Why don’t you… I mean, he’s a prince and I’m just some knight in his army.”

Sighing, Robin slips her arms around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder. Through his tunic she can hear his heartbeat, fast and nervous, then his arms wrap around her and it slows as he buries his face in her hair.

“Yes, he’s a prince. But that doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t have worked out between us. We’re great friends, and I love him as such, but I have a true connection with _you_.” She leans back to look him in the eye. “I love _you_ , you idiot.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t implying you had feelings for him. I was just…feeling a little insecure, I guess. He’s a very beautiful man.”

“Got a little crush, Stahl?” Robin smirks, and Stahl’s returning smile warms her heart.

“Absolutely. Actually, I need to go change into my dress now so I’ll see you later in the crowd.”

“Alright love, see you.” Still smiling, they kiss gently. Stahl moves his hand to cup her cheek as he always does, as if he’s holding something precious.

“I love you Robin.”

“I love you too.”

 

The great hall is packed, wall to wall, with smiling faces. Robin stands, hand in hand with Stahl, watching her best friend grin soppily as the love of his life approaches him. Olivia is beautiful in a long white gown threaded with pink lace, and her blushing face matches Chrom’s. Behind her, Lissa, Maribelle, and Panne walk elegantly in time with her steps, wearing dresses of gold, pink, and purple respectively. When she reaches the altar, her entourage steps to the side, and Chrom reaches out a hand to help her up the last step. There’s a sigh from the crowd as their hands touch. Olivia has nervously bunched up the fabric of her gown to her chest, but Chrom takes her other hand and it falls free. He catches her gaze and keeps it, murmurs something to her which Robin can’t make out.

Libra steps forward, and, eyes closed, begins reciting the wedding vows to which they’ll hold for the rest of their lives. Their eyes never leave each other. When the end is reached there’s a heavy, expectant silence. Olivia finally looks away, her face the same colour as her hair, but Chrom catches her cheek gently. With a look of determination, he presses his lips to hers. With a kiss, the vow is sealed. Immediately the crowd roars. Hats are thrown, kisses exchanged, and at the front the Shepherds whoop with delight. Frederick has even cracked a smile, and by the altar Maribelle nods with satisfaction at a well-performed marriage.

 

Ylisse may still be recovering, she may still be broken in places and lost in others. Ylisse may take years to recover, but today Ylisseans celebrate, for the shadow of war hanging over her has been banished by a promise. A promise of love, and a promise of a bright future.


End file.
